9. Anastazia

ONE WEEK LATER…

Asif: What you doing?

I smiled down at my phone, reading his text just as my mother came to sit next to me.

“Who got you smiling like that?” My mama leaned over some to peek at my screen.

“Asif.” I locked it in a hurry so she couldn’t read. The last time we’d texted, it was about squirting, and yeah… didn’t want Mama seeing that. “I like him but?—”

“But what?” She frowned, eyebrow raised, so I knew she was about to disagree with whatever I said.

“I have some PTSD. You know Cedric wasn’t psycho when I met him. He was sweet, ambitious, handsome, and all the good things too. Also, I’m not exactly in the best moods all the time with all this shit going on. I want him to get to know the actual me, the person I was before Cedric started being an abusive asshole. I was fun, adventurous, and in good spirits most of the time. Not to mention, my stomach was on washboard and my titties were literally perfection.”

My mama chortled at my last statement.

“Stazi, you will get back to that version soon enough. But just think, if he likes you at what you consider a low point, how will he feel when you return to normal? He’s gonna be obsessed then.” She smiled, caressing my face for a second.

“You have to say that. You’re my mom.”

“I am, but I will always keep it real with you, baby.” She scooted closer. “I’m proud of you, and though I hate you being with Cedric has put you in such a predicament, I’m even prouder that you got out. Many women stay and die by the hands of these horrible ass men, brushing shit off until they kill the whole household. Or they wait around for a knight in shining armor to do the work. Nothing wrong with that last one, but you didn’t do that. You had no one, and you got your ass out. You got some big balls, and any man not scared of you right now is a good one.”

We cracked up at that.

“Thanks, Mama.” I checked the monitor on my phone to be sure Sophie was still napping, then went back to my texts.

Me: About to make a smoothie.

Asif: No Monopoly?

I snickered as I ascended and ventured into the kitchen.

Me: Nope.

He needed a glimpse of the old Anastazia before I bored his ass to death.

Me: Before I had a baby and a crazy man I used to love going to a boozy brunch with my sister and mom.

Me: I breastfeed though so I can’t do it unless it’s planned forty-eight hours before. Lol.

Asif: you so perfect man.

Asif: Come on a date with me tonight.

Asif: If you can’t, I can come kick it with you and baby girl.

Setting the bananas down, I peered into the living room at my mother looking so relaxed as she drank her tea, laughing at her show.

“Ma, you don’t wanna be bothered tonight, huh?”

“With what?” She looked at me, uncrossing her legs.

“Sophie. It’s fine, I can tell him I can’t go. I’m not tripping.”

“You better not, Anastazia Chase!” She got up. “You have to understand that I was a mother before you were, and something your grandma always did for me was look after you and your sister. Just because you are a mother doesn’t mean you can’t have a life. I love having Sophie this much, so go. I wish I could get Benton, but I have to share him with Lisara and his parents.”

Chuckling, I said, “Okay. Thank you. And remember, if you want me to come back, don’t hesitate to ask. I will. I won’t be mad.”

“Don’t piss me off.”

Typing on my phone, I smiled as she left the kitchen.

Me: Okay what time?

Asif: I’ll be to you around 8:30

I told him okay, then proceeded to my bedroom to see what I would even wear. Though it was only two p.m., I needed as much time as possible to get my look together now that I wasn’t as confident in my body. Before, it was easy work. I could think of outfits at the drop of a hat, having so many options and being in good shape, but not so much anymore.

I didn’t want anything that would make me look like all I did was eat donuts for a living, but I also didn’t want to cover up too much, which would essentially have the same sentiment—that I ate too many donuts and wanted to shield it from the world.

About an hour later, and after breaking out into a mild sweat, I figured out what I planned to wear: jean shorts, a cute crop that hid my midsection well, somehow, and my famous oversized jean jacket that would somewhat hide me yet also not completely. It was an item I bought on a whim and now wished I’d gotten more colors. There were only so many times I could wear this shit and in front of Asif. Pairing it with heels, I set everything to the side.

“Mommy, mac and cheese?” Sophie stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. I had no idea she was awake.

“Okay, but are you gonna eat it?” I turned to face her, seeing she was still half asleep. If she woke up and I wasn’t right there lying with her, she would hop up always to come find me, no matter how delirious she was.

“Yes, mac and cheese.” She nodded.

Sighing, because I didn’t believe her, I scooped her up and carried her into the kitchen as she lay on my shoulder.

Halfway through making the food, she fully woke up, so I set her at the table and let her talk to me about whatever. Some of it, I understood, but most was nonsense. I figured out if I just nodded and said ‘wow’ a few times, she would be pleased.

An hour later, Sophie was fed, bathed, had brushed her teeth, and was now curled up in my mama’s king-sized bed with her as they ate ice cream.

“Go get ready. You can’t use my grand baby as an excuse.” My mother shooed me as I stood in her doorway.

“Yes, no exstuse!” Sophie pointed at me like a true disciplinarian, though she had no idea what she was talking about.

Taking heed, I went to brush, floss, and rinse with mouthwash before hopping into the shower. I took my time in there, scrubbing and doing the whole nine as if Asif was gonna see anything past these shorts tonight.

While I wasn’t exactly a prude, sex wasn’t something I was really interested in at the moment. Not only did I not know Asif well enough, but the past few years of it had been bad experiences, and I was thankful for my current drought.

Once out, I put on body butter then perfume before patting myself dry and going to get dressed. I ran some Camille Rose Aloe Whipped Butter Gel through my curls, along with some water, then slipped on my jewelry, topping it off with my Tom Ford Soleil Blanc perfume. It had a nice, beachy, summery scent, but I was too obsessed with it to only wear it for one season. Therefore, it was my go-to.

By the time I changed purses, Asif was ringing the doorbell. He didn’t give me a heads up this time through text.

“I’m leaving.” I peeked my head into my mama’s room.

“I know, I heard.” She winked. “Bye, baby.”

“Bye, Mommy!” Sophie beamed. I noticed she was happier since we’d been here.

“Bye, cutie.” I giggled, going to give them both a light kiss since I had on some Fenty lip oil.

While Cedric had never laid a hand on her, I made sure of it by never leaving them alone. I guess Sophie could read his energy because she was never this bubbly and bright when we were at home. She would only be this way around her cousin’s cousins.

I double checked my appearance in the mirror near the doorway before opening the door to see Asif. Per usual, he looked so handsome in blue jeans, a long-sleeved Givenchy shirt with a collar, and black Chuck Taylor shoes. His jewelry pieces were shining brightly, like always, as they laid on his neck and wrists. The chain with MFM on it caught my eyes again, reminding me to inquire as to what it stood for.

“You love that jacket,” he joked, and I was mortified. “You look beautiful, but when don’t you.” He took my hand, leading me out of the house and closing the doors for me after locking the bottom locks.

“Thank you.” I smiled as best as I could through the embarrassment as he led me to his truck.

I slid in and shut my eyes for a moment, wishing I hadn’t worn this shit. I was overthinking too much, and I guess it was because I was realizing I hadn’t dated or been courted in a long ass time. I’d been with Cedric for a while, and once we moved in together, all the romantic shit like this stopped. I didn’t know what to take seriously, what to brush off, and what to panic about.

“You aight?” he asked once in the driver’s seat, smelling and looking good as ever. His dreads were loose, and his line up was perfect, like always.

“I always wear this jacket because it covers up what I need it to,” I blurted.

“What you need it to cover?” He frowned, glancing at me as he pulled from the curb.

“Some things.” I smirked.

“I was fucking with you when I made that comment, love. We all got that one item we can’t come up out of. But you don’t need to be covering nothing.”

“You say that now until I take this off, and it’s like opening a can of biscuits.”

He coughed and began grinning widely as he chuckled. I joined him, knowing I was exaggerating just a bit.

“I seen enough to know you on some bullshit right now.” He was still snickering. “Them scrubs be a little tight, baby, so you ain’t hiding as much as you think.” He looked my way at the red light, saying, “I like what I see.”

“I could’ve had a girdle on under them scrubs.”

“You don’t.”

“How you know?”

“I saw you change to another top before. You forgot?” He whipped the car. “I don’t want no buff ass female; I want something soft. You perfect. I like to see shit move, not stay still.” He licked his sexy lips at the thought.

“Well, you got a bag of gelatin over here, so…”

He laughed again, and so did I. I liked making him laugh, I guess because not only did it make me feel like I was actually funny, but I enjoyed the sound.

“I got something stiff to hold you together, baby.” He gave me a look, eyebrow raised, and I simpered, giggling some. “Real shit, though, you look good. You carried and birthed a human, though, so don’t beat yaself up over that shit. Hard to focus on certain shit when you in a stressful environment as well.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, watching us cruise through the city. How he knew exactly what I was dealing with was crazy.

All I cared about was Sophie and surviving while with Cedric, not eating right and working out.

We ended up on Sunset, where Asif pulled into a huge parking lot. Stepping out, he came to help me from the car, keeping my hand in his. It felt nice walking along the sidewalk of the busy ass street, seeing other couples hold hands, just as we were, even though we weren’t a couple.

We ended up at this comedy club, which I hadn’t expected.

“You come watch live shows?” I questioned, surprised.

“Sometimes. I like seeing them unknown niggas perform. They be funny as fuck.” He smiled, leading me down the slim hallway. “Nothing like taking ya mind off shit with some good laughter.” He led me to our half booth table, all of them decorated with tiny lamps with lampshades atop.

A man came by once we were seated in the dimly lit room, with the stage facing us, to take our drink orders. I got juice while Asif ordered Hennessy.

“I’m actually excited. I’ve never been to a comedy show, but I like watching them on TV.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

“I would say Chris Rock’s Never Scared or Martin’s You So Crazy .” I laughed just thinking about it.

“Martin’s is mine too.” His eyes lit up as the man returned with our drinks. “No matter how many times I watch that shit, it’s funny as fuck. I gotta watch Chris’s.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter that I know the joke front to back; I crack the hell up.”

“We gon’ have to watch that shit together.” He took a sip. “Chris’s too.”

I nodded, unable to hide the giddiness I felt. As nervous as I was at the start of the night, Asif had made me feel comfortable. I noticed he was like his father, in some aspects, having that welcoming trait. I guess it depended on the scenario and the person.

We ordered some food which I thought was dope, considering this was a comedy show, and whilst we waited, the comedians started to come on and perform.

I’d never heard of any of them, but they were hilarious, for the most part. I noticed these underground guys didn’t care about being politically correct, saying whatever they wanted about whomever, just like back in the days.

I also noticed over time, Asif and I had gravitated closer and closer. It started with his hand on my thigh, then slight adjustments here and there before we were shoulder to shoulder. Then, his arm rested behind me while part of my back was against a part of his chest.

When one of the guys made a joke about gelatin, I laughed, turning to Asif and not realizing how close our faces would be. He was closed-mouth smiling, too, and it was so mesmerizing that what was supposed to be a quick glance turned into a lingering, smiling, blushing stare.

He pressed his nose to mine, then his soft lips, tilting my head back some. His big hand went under my jean jacket, running across the exposed portion of my stomach as we started to suck one another’s lips.

The room was dark, people were laughing uproariously, and the comedians were yapping, but all I could think about was his soft lips and rough hands causing a dampness in my panties.

His hand moved down a little past the waistband of my shorts, and when I tried to move back slightly, he whispered in that deep, raspy tenor, “Come here.”

Like I was under a spell, I listened, falling back into the kiss as his hand traveled deeper, right down between my legs.

His mouth moved to my neck, sucking in a way that had my clit hammering hard enough to overpower the sound of all the laughter, clapping, and even the yelling of the comedians.

I turned to face the man on stage telling some story I couldn’t pay attention to because of Asif sucking on my neck and playing with my clit through my lace underwear. Swiftly, he moved them to the side, capturing my mouth with his again, before toying with my bud.

“Mmm.” I couldn’t help but to moan into his mouth just before I bit his lip.

That gesture made him kiss me harder, sucking my tongue as he sped up to a medium pace, playing with my pussy.

“You super wet,” he moaned against my mouth, sliding his fingers down and then back up to continue assaulting my clit.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, digging my nails into his strong arm that was attached to the hand playing in my wetness.

He moved further down, making me slink lower, before pushing a finger inside of me.

“That pussy tight, love,” he grumbled, sounding like he was almost disappointed that he wasn’t inside of me.

Going back to my neck, he didn’t slow up, using his thumb to play with my bud while he plunged his finger inside of me. Before I could say a word, he added a second, leaning up only to watch my face. He kissed the corner of my mouth as I tried not to moan as loudly as I wanted to, feeling my panties become soaked.

“Asif.” I sniveled as he went harder, surely putting a hickey on my neck as he pounded my pussy with his fingers. Thank God for this table and tablecloth hiding the indecent things going on under this table.

“Cum for me, Anastazia.” He sucked on my ear, thumbing my clit.

He took another finger and slowly began to push it into me as well. By the time he got it all the way in, I was creaming all over his fingers, eyes closed, head back. It was slightly painful, the third finger, but like the professional he was, he removed himself from being inside of me with ease. He pecked me when done whilst I tried to catch my breath, sitting up and feeling the warm dampness of the seat of my underwear.

“What the fuck,” I mumbled, in disbelief of what had just happened and in a public place.

He took some fries, using those same glazed hands, and ate some. Keeping eye contact, he licked his fingers as if it were remnants of his meal.

“Ten out of ten.” He nodded at the plate as if he was speaking on it , but I knew he meant my juices.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” I tried to smother my smile, but I knew he saw it still.

Before I could slide out, he stopped me, stealing a few pecks before letting me go free. I was able to pee, clean up as best as I could, then wash my hands before returning to the table where Asif got back comfortable with his arm around me.

“Hi, I will be your waiter while Jude is on break.” A woman walked up smiling and speaking lowly enough so she wouldn’t interrupt the current comedian.

She’d come at the perfect time, because I would not have wanted her to witness what’d just happened.

“Aight.” Asif nodded. “You can take this?—”

“Are you Anastazia? From the news? The lady who?—”

“Yes,” I answered the buck-eyed waitress who’d cut Asif off.

“Oh my gosh. How can you?—”

“Aye!” Asif snapped his fingers to get her attention and slightly startling her. “Pick all this shit up off the muthafuckin’ table ’fore you be out of a fucking job.”

It was as if she didn’t notice him before because she drank him in, filling up with fear before she snapped out of it and began to remove our empty plates and cups.

“I’m so sorry.” She bobbed her head, tucking her lips in.

Asif ignored her, peeling some cash off and dropping it onto the table. “Let’s go, baby.”

He slid out, and I was happy to follow him as I rested my hand in his. We left out and didn’t say too much as we walked back to the car, watching all the drunk people act up like they’d never had a free weekend off in their lives.

“This is why I don’t really like going out as of late,” I said once we were safely in his car, seat warmer on. “It’s weird going out and people you’ve never met or seen speaking your name, acting like they know you because of a news story.”

“I can definitely see what you mean.” He pulled his gaze from his front windshield and rested it on me. “I guess everybody don’t have the good sense God gave their muthafuckin’ asses.”

“No, but also the world is obsessed with shit like this. I don’t know what I thought would happen when I decided to shoot Cedric, but I didn’t expect it to be like this, and for my old coworker and his family to maim me all over the media.”

Asif shook his head, clearly irritated by the shit that had just happened and what was currently going on.

“I apologize for tonight, love.” He started to pull off. I noticed he never parked head in, always in reverse so he could just pull off.

“It’s fine. I had a lot of fun tonight.” I giggled.

“I’m glad.” He smirked sexily, running his hand down his face as he yielded to traffic. He was so fine, but he didn’t come off cocky like he knew it, and that made him even finer.

“Did you wash your hands?” I had to ask, seeing him run that same hand down his face.

“Of course not.”

“What?” I shrieked as he chuckled at my reaction. “So you’re just gonna spend the rest of the night with pussy on your fingers?”

“Correction—Anastazia’s pussy on my fingers, and hell yeah. Make sure I sleep with my hand over my nose tonight.”

“Ugh!” I couldn’t help but chortle as I shoved him lightly, making him do the same.

He whipped the vehicle around, using a few back streets, and it was impressive how well he knew the county of Los Angeles, even when we weren’t in his neck of the woods.

“It’s still early, love. You wanna come kick it with me?”

“Where?”

“My crib.”

“Oh… umm…”

“We not about to fuck. I’m not on that. I just ain’t ready to drop you back off, and the public thing ain’t gon’ fucking work.”

“Okay.” I exhaled, trusting him.

We rode for a little bit, not long at all, ending up at a residential tower. Asif entered, parking his vehicle, and then came around to assist me out.

“Watch ya step,” he said, helping me onto the elevator. I loved how delicately he treated me, and sadly, it wasn’t something I was used to.

We rode up and finally ended up in his expansive ass penthouse. It was humongous, larger than any penthouse I’d ever seen.

“This is your house?” I had to inquire to be sure.

“Yeah.” He chuckled at the way my jaw fell slightly, his hand on the small of my back. “You wanna look around?”

“Can I?” I raised a brow, causing him to smirk.

“Feel free, love. I ain’t got shit in here worth hiding.”

I nodded and started trekking around the beautiful place that seemed to overlook all of Los Angeles. Asif stayed behind me, but not in an overbearing way, as I peered in all four bedrooms and five bathrooms. I didn’t even know they made penthouses this large. When he dimmed the lights over the whole place, I whipped around to face him with a gasp, and he laughed sexily.

“This is so amazing, Asif. I’m proud of you.” I nodded, and when I focused on him, I saw the puzzled look.

“You are?”

“Yes. You’re twenty-six years old and living like this. But at the same time, you’re not as flashy as you could be. One would have to pay close attention to you to know you have money, and most men at your age would be popping Ace of Spades in the club every night to prove it.” I inspected the thick curtains.

Asif bobbed his head, taking in my comment.

“I appreciate that, baby.” He spoke softly, as if he were still thinking. “I don’t think nobody, except for my pops, has ever said that shit to me before.” His brows furrowed, pondering on that fact.

“That’s pretty surprising.” I meandered over to him, feeling more relaxed in his presence, as I threw my arms around his neck, having to stand on my tiptoes even in the four-inch heels. Asif’s hands gravitated to my waist and then down to my ass, squeezing it so that I forgot I had on the thick ass jean shorts because I could feel him.

We kissed, slowly but hungrily, and I felt him begin to harden again. His hands roamed my body, and for the moment, I forgot about every insecurity I had when it came to him. He made me feel good, pretty, sexy, and that made me horny.

“Let’s do something else, love.” He stepped back from me, shaking his head a bit and blowing out a silent breath, before running his hand down his face again.

“You don’t like this?” I whispered, pecking him deeply.

“I love it, but it’s making me wanna do other shit.” He pecked me again, backing up and letting his hands fall from me. “And if I fuck you once, I ain’t gon’ wanna stop.”

“Okay.” I gave him some space, seeing how tense he was and that big bulge in his jeans. I didn’t wanna go all the way yet either, so it was best I relaxed like he said.

He got behind me as we started to walk, hugging me slightly as he whispered, “That shit was wet too. Next time we do that, I want you naked, baby.”

His full lips went flush against the tender spots of my neck as his big hand pressed against my abdomen.

“Did you pump so you can drink?” he quizzed, and I chuckled slightly out of shock. “You forgot I got a shitload of sisters-in-law, and that’s all they talk about.”

We guffawed in unison.

“I was an overproducer, so I have built quite a stash especially now that Sophie doesn’t drink as much. In other words, I can have a drink.” I simpered, and he gave me a half smile, staring down into my face for a bit. “What? Never heard of an overproducer?”

“Nah, trust me, I have. I think Yolani is one.” He shook his head with an exhale while leading me off as we chuckled. “I love titties, but I have never in my life wanted to stop hearing about them muthafuckas like I do when I see my family.”

I chortled more as we entered his living area, where he cut on the massive fireplace before going to his bar and pouring me some champagne. He poured Don Julio for himself, then came to sit by me on the floor. The fire was so warm that I had to sit on the floor by it.

“Why do you have champagne when you don’t seem to like it?” I asked, enjoying the crisp taste.

“Moms told me to always have some, and she makes sure of it.”

“I see.”

“So do all women only talk about periods, breast milk, and books?” he quizzed, making me laugh.

“No, we do not. We talk about the good stuff when men aren’t around,” I assured him.

“Aight, so tell me shit I should know. What’s ya favorite song?”

“Either You Put a Move on My Heart by Tamia or Unfortunately by Yolani. Tamia’s song is just so perfect for like a wedding or something. Everyone wants to feel like that.” I took a sip of the champagne. “Then Yolani’s is like boss shit, like you messed up, so unfortunately for you , it’s a wrap, nigga.” I grinned and Asif smiled, chuckling. “And they both sung the hell out of those songs.”

“Sis-in-law love telling y’all females to leave yo’ nigga, then go right home to lay up with my brother.”

We cracked up, mainly because it was partially true.

“Well, she tells you to leave your no-good nigga, which she doesn’t have.”

“True.” He nodded.

“Okay, what’s yours?”

“Other than Do I Love Her? it’s Hussle and Motivate by Nipsey Hussle.”

“You don’t even have to explain why. You definitely give that vibe.” I cheesed, waving up and down his person using my hand.

“That a good thing?”

“Very.” I simpered as he scooted closer to me, putting me between his legs as we faced one another. “Are you always gonna do what you do now?”

“I assume you ain’t talking about the bank shit.” He ran his hand down his beard, looking off for a moment. “Nah. I used to say I would retire by thirty, but I don’ made more money than I thought, so I honestly got like two more years in me, and I ain’t even been doing this shit long.”

I was surprised by his answer, knowing most niggas in his field wanted to be in it until they were using a damn cane and subscribing to AARP.

“How long?”

“Couple years.” He kept strong eye contact with me, seemingly trying to read my mind. “When I first got in, I was working the same way my brother taught me, but I realized we all work differently. So, I changed shit up like a month in, tripling my income, so ain’t no need for me to hold onto this shit.

“Type of shit I’m into, I would never get out if I got hemmed up. That’s why I lay low, make my bread, and I get rid of muthafuckas at the first sign of disrespect, disloyalty, and anything else I don’t fuck with.”

Now it made sense why he was different from his father upon first meeting.

“You don’t consider any of the guys you work with your friend?”

“Not really. I might kick it here and there, but big moves, I make on my fucking own. Only nigga I can say I would let in on big shit is Low. He young though, twenty-one, so he still reckless. But once he get older, I can tell he gon’ tighten the fuck up.” He nodded. “When I was his age, I was a knucklehead ass nigga too.”

“You?” I was thoroughly shocked. I couldn’t imagine him like that.

“Yeah.” He grinned a little before it dissipated. “I was misguided, only giving a fuck about pussy, weed, and more pussy. Tried the college shit, but I wasn’t focused. Started to feel aimless and shit, knowing I needed a purpose. Didn’t just wanna be the son of that one kingpin nigga. But when my brother decided he wanted out, I knew I wanted in, and everybody assumed I was too wayward for that shit, but I buckled down. I’d already started to mature out of my previous mindset, but being in this game made me mature a bit faster. I saw a lot of shit six fucking months in.”

“That’s crazy.” I tried to imagine a version of Asif like the one he’d just described but couldn’t. He was too wise, alert, and tenacious for me to see him any other way. “It’s not difficult having people you don’t trust in something like this?” I frowned, admiring his handsome face and all his little quirks, like the way he stroked his beard or ran his tongue over his bottom lip when in deep thought or how he gave a closed mouth smile, letting his eyes twinkle before he would actually show teeth and laugh. I’d even become privy to his love for candy straws, because he always had a pack in his car, and I’d seen some more fresh packs in his bedroom.

“Nah, I got friends, my brothers. These are niggas who would never turn on me. You could put any one of ’em in a torture chamber, and they wouldn’t say shit. Then I got my pops. He got that sweet spot shit down pat. He’s always been my best friend, my homie, but made sure I respected him as my father.”

I admired how close he and his brothers were and often forgot they were stepbrothers. It only stood out when they were all together, simply because the Compton boys looked so much alike.

“I don’t know why I’m asking when my only friend is Analicia and her damn sisters-in-law.”

“They’ll be yours soon too.”

“Asif.” I chuckled, and he gave me a closed mouth half smile. “So handsome,” I had to admit, touching his beard.

“And you beautiful.” He slowly began to remove my jean jacket, also known as my shield. I hesitated at first, then allowed him to. “Everything.” He pecked my lips, my neck, collarbone, and then my breasts through my shirt.

Chills ran through me as the hair raised on my limbs like they always did. Feeling his mouth near my nipples made them extra sensitive, even through the fabric.

Bringing his lips back to mine, he deepened the kiss, parting our lips.

“You said?—”

“I know, but I can’t fucking help it.” He spoke against my mouth before slipping his tongue in.

We sat there kissing for what seemed like forever but not enough time at the same time. We broke it off for a tiny bit, just so we could talk, and I noticed I was comfortable talking to him, even about things I wouldn’t think someone would be interested in, like the crazy shit I found online while researching.

However, after swapping information, we got right back to it. Before we knew it, it was time for me to go home.

Irritably, I perused the aisle of CVS looking for the specific bottle of vitamin C I wanted but had kept coming up short. I hated to be out, so the fact that I was taking longer than I expected, on what was supposed to be an in and out trip, annoyed me.

“There is, Mommy!” Sophie shouted, pointing her tiny finger at the bottle I was looking for.

“Good Lord.” I shook my head at myself. “Thank you, baby. You are so smart.” I stared down at her as she sat in the front portion of the basket. I meant it, she surprised me every day, and I think it was a combination of my genes and spending all that time in her aunt’s daycare.

“So freaking cute,” I heard a whiny voice say, making me snap my eyes up from my baby.

I saw it was Milan, and my heart dropped. I didn’t know what she was on, but I didn’t get into confrontations in front of my baby, not since she was this coherent and smart. Even Cedric held it together somewhat when she was in the room.

“Hi!” Sophie waved to her and showed her the doll she’d just gotten from her uncle Bashar.

“Don’t you think you should be focusing on being a mom and that murder trial coming up instead of dick?” Milan folded her arms, focusing on me.

She was a very pretty girl—no real flaws that one could point out unless you ventured to the inside.

“Attempted murder.” I winked, trying to remain cool, even though on the inside, I was already bashing her head into the metal shelf to the left of us.

“Right. Whatever. I know you can go to jail for either, so what does it matter?” She rolled her neck, strong perfume making Sophie cough a little bit.

“You have a good day, Milan.” I tried to move around her, but she blocked my basket.

As badly as I wanted to ram her with it, I knew Bashar would have my head. He meant business when he said I couldn’t be out here fighting. It was almost like he knew people would be testing me out in public when he gave me the warning.

“What would the prosecutor think if I came to her and confirmed you have been having an affair. ’Cause see, I remember you looking at Asif well before you shot your husband, Stazi. Now as soon as he’s laid up in the hospital, comatose, you and Asif are all of a sudden like this.” She held up her middle and pointer finger, intertwined.

“Do what you want, bitch, but you still won’t have him. I could die tonight, and he still wouldn’t pick you. He’d choose someone else. You’re too airheaded and focused on the wrong things in life to understand that you and Asif are not equally yoked. Why would a man as smart, handsome, ambitious, tenacious, and rich as he, settle for you?”

“Settle? Do you see me, ho!” She waved up and down her frame. “ You’re the one he would be settling for!”

“See?” I asked. “That’s what I mean. Looks wise, you are definitely a sight for sore eyes, but you have nothing else to offer. You want to lock a man of Asif’s caliber down, you’re gonna have to do more than wear clothes from the toddler section, a bear weave, and caked on makeup.”

Milan eyed me, lips slightly parted in shock. Though I was purposely verbally assaulting her because I couldn’t do it physically, what I was saying was true.

She was a beautiful girl, but after being around Asif and talking to him, she was too shallow and immature, which probably turned a man like him off. Physically, they were a good match, but once she opened her mouth and he his, you started to wonder how she even made her way into his life.

“Fuck you, bitch. Karma is gonna get you for stealing a taken man.” She was seething.

“Bad word!” Sophie bucked her eyes at Milan, making the latter glance down at her briefly.

“You just be happy I can’t do what I want, or you’d be limping away in them yeast infection causing shorts instead of being able to do that little stank walk you think people enjoy.” I hurriedly pushed the basket past her, and she was too shell-shocked to even attempt to block me.

“Whore!” She shouted at my back.

“Whore!” Sophie screamed back in delight, giggling and rocking exaggeratedly as she waited for me to join her like I usually would when she did that laugh.

“That’s a bad word too, baby.” I kissed her forehead, and she nodded.

Milan had me on edge as I checked out and loaded my baby, plus items, into my vehicle. Unable to think about anything else, I ventured to Bashar’s law office all the way in Beverly Hills.

An hour later, due to LA traffic, I was inside of the building, approaching his secretary, with a sleeping Sophie in her stroller.

“Hi, can I see Bashar?”

“Mr. Compton? Do you have an appointment?” she quizzed, and I remembered to be more formal by not using his first name.

“I don’t, but can you see if I can come in his office right quick? Tell him it’s Anastazia Chase.”

“I could, but he told me not to do that.”

I didn’t know if she was a bimbo or trying to be smart. She came off like she was slow but then like she had an attitude, so I couldn’t be sure.

“Please. It’s important.”

“I—oh wait, Chase. Like his old nanny?—”

“His wife’s maiden name.”

“Yes, his wife.” She reddened, embarrassed. “Sorry. Give me one second.”

I listened to her call, and then next thing I knew, Bashar had appeared at the entrance of his office, looking confused.

I pushed Sophie over while thanking Ashlee in the midst.

“You aight?” he asked, shutting the door behind me.

“You remember Milan?” I got right to it, no preamble necessary.

“Milan? Oh, that girl that be with Asif sometimes.” He nodded, sitting down.

Him saying sometimes churned my gut because I began to wonder just how many women Asif entertained. I knew he liked me and talked a good game, but did he do that shit to others? Did he speak that way to Milan in private? I knew all about how niggas played the role in public just to get you alone and be Keith Sweat.

“Um, yeah. Anyway, I saw her today in the drug store, and she told me she’s gonna tell the prosecutor about how I was eyeing Asif prior to me shooting Cedric.” I paced, unable to stop once I’d put the brake on Sophie’s stroller.

“Calm down, Stazi.” He gestured for me to sit, and I didn’t know why he was smirking. This was serious.

“I’m sorry, Bashar. What is so funny?”

“That you worried about some hood rat snitching on you.”

“She may be a hood rat, but any more witnesses against me is not gonna help. And the yacht party, she had friends there. They could vouch that I was staring Asif down.”

As I thought back to it, I didn’t even know why it happened. Yes, I always thought the man was cute, but I never thought past that. I didn’t wonder what it would be like to have him or anything. He was cute—no, fine—and there were no other thoughts about it. I guess that day he looked extra good, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

“That’s true. We don’t need any more witnesses, but she’s not gonna do that, Stazi.”

“Why not? She hates me and wants Asif to herself. That seems like a perfect way to get me out of the running.”

“She ain’t gon’ do that because she want that nigga too badly, and she know if she does, he gon’ cut her ass off.”

Wait, he hadn’t? Of course, the nigga hadn’t. He was taking me on dates, putting his hands in my pants, and putting his tongue as far as it would go into my mouth, yet I hadn’t stopped to question him about Milan or any other woman. And even though this was the case, I still didn’t feel comfortable interrogating him when I was the one putting the brakes on us. I guess I just assumed he wasn’t entertaining her ass anymore, but it was always the wrong move to just assume with niggas.

“Right, and she wants to stay in his life,” I mumbled, standing back up and ready to leave.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Stazi. Sif not like that. If y’all serious, he not gon’ keep her ass around.”

“Okay. Well, thank you. Sorry to bother you.” I started for the door, and Bashar rushed over to pull it open for me.

“Don’t worry about that shit, Stazi,” he called after me, and I threw my hand up to say okay.

Days later…

Entering the medical room, I made my way over to my desk to power up my computer, only to see a small bouquet of roses. It was much smaller than the last time Asif gifted me roses, being wrapped in plastic instead of being in a vase like before.

Setting my purse down, I scooped them up to inhale, feeling better than I had the past few days. Since leaving Bashar’s office, Asif and I had spoken, but he was out of town, so we couldn’t spend much time together. He was quite busy, too, so we’d text a little, and then he’d called me at night, but I would be so tired we couldn’t talk long.

“You like ’em?” Grady quizzed, making me look toward the doorway.

“Oh yeah, I do.” I frowned slightly, then peeped the note signed by him. These weren’t even from Asif. No wonder the presentation was different. The first arrangement was from a man with intentions; the second was from a man just trying to do what he thought would get him closer to some pussy.

“I’m glad.” Grady cheesed, walking further into the room.

Like always, an uncomfortable feeling overcame me. Something about him wasn’t right, and it was possibly why he reminded me of my ex, though he hadn’t done anything or said anything malicious.

“I think you should take them back and give them to a woman more deserving of these from you in particular.” I walked them over to him.

“Damn, a nigga can’t do nothing nice no more?”

“It’s not that. I appreciate this, but I’m not interested, and my father always taught me to never take things from a man I don’t want to be with.” I spoke truthfully.

“Is this because of Asif?” His forehead creased as he slipped his hands into his pockets, refusing to take the arrangement back. “You hoping to be with that nigga or something?”

Peering up into his devilish eyes, I replied, “No, not really. Yes, I am getting to know Asif, so taking flowers from you wouldn’t be appropriate. But also, as I just said, I’m just not feeling you, so I don’t want them to be wasted on me.” I shook the roses, hoping he’d grab onto them.

Finally, he did, clutching them tightly as he ran a finger across his chin in thought.

“I like yo’ loyalty, Stazi, but same way I should give these to someone who appreciates it, you should do the same with yo’ loyalty. Give it to a nigga who appreciates it and is willing to throw the shit back.”

“I am.”

Shrugging, he responded, “If you say so, but I asked that nigga Asif if he was into you, and he told me no.”

Shock overtook me, but I tried not to let it show. Though he was close with Asif, I didn’t want to believe he’d told him that.

“Oh, probably when I first got here.”

“Nah, it was recent. I asked if I could shoot my shot and wanted to make sure he wasn’t feeling you. He told me he wasn’t at all.”

“Okay. Well, I need to start on some work, Grady, so thanks again.” I went for the door, opening it.

Grady snickered, running his finger across his chin again, clearly a habit, and then swaggered past me.

Standing in the doorway, he said, “I don’t mind working hard for what I want.”

Looking me up and down, he licked his lips before venturing out completely. I took no time in shutting that door.